The Battle of Silver Forest
by Lilywhisper99
Summary: Ok, so this isn't really warriors at all. It's actually a story inspired by the song 'Dirty Paws' by Of Monsters and Men. I found inspiration in this song and decided to write an extended version of the story of Dirty Paws. I hope you enjoy! Spoiler- It's about wolves Also, I changed the name because people kept saying the title sounded like a furry porn, so... :/
1. The Prophecy is Revealed

White fur flashed beside red as muscles churned beneath hardened pelts. Hunger-lean legs raced between the trees as the two wolves ran. Above their heads, the tree's branches rubbed together nervously, whispering out to the two fugitives.

Run… faster!

Getting closer… closer still…

Don't look back, run!

The larger red wolf used his head to shove his mate forward.

"Vetur! Go! I can hold them off long enough; get back to the den!"

Vetur looked behind her, blue eyes wide with fear. Her mate had skidded to a halt, throwing up snow and leaf rot. His dark amber eyes glowed to a shade of red in the dim light of the new moon. His hackles raised as he faced his numerous enemies. He would block their way.

Vetur stood in terror until the first of the rival wolves leapt at her mate before turning tail. With the snow, her pelt blended in to her background, allowing for a more unnoticed escape. As her mate disappeared behind her, the screams and snarls rose to a new crescendo. Darting between rocks to hide her trail, Vetur finally came to a small, bubbling stream.

Wincing at the freezing bite of the water against her swollen belly, Venur plunged into the ice-ladden current. The bubbling water whispered past her layers of fur, settling against her skin like the kiss of death, daring her to make one mistake. It was all she could do to keep her head above the stream and to steady her breathing. Her paws numbly grasped for smooth pebbles in the streambed, propelling her forward despite her ever-stiffening limbs. The trees no longer whispered, they groaned with the weight of the eternal ice they were burdened to carry. The creaking of the forest scared her almost as much as the danger behind her- the trees couldn't hold themselves up forever, bearing the weight of the world as they were. Striking out again, feeling her energy sapping out of her body as she swam, Venur reached for the looming bank.

Climbing out of the water, and trying to ignore the crystals forming on her pelt, she threw a glance over her shoulder. Other than the wind, no howls broke the still night air. The only thing breaking the clear landscape was the she-wolf's heavy breath, steaming and clouding above her heaving body. Turning tail once again, she raced through the woods.

As the numbness of the river left her bones, sharp pains shot through her body. Even as she pushed on, her steps slowed as her body revolted against the abuse it had been forced to endure. Though her mind and heart strove to go on, to take that last leg of her journey, her body seemed to give out. Her skin trembled beneath her fur, the density holding in icy water rather than heat. As her vision wavered and her belly convulsed, her mind accepted defeat. She sank down onto the forest floor, her weight breaking through the icy crust and into the long-forgotten dead foliage. As her consciousness began to fade, she wondered at how long it was since she had seen a living blade of grass, or cluster of ferns dotting the streamside. The last she had seen a cluster of greenery… well she had been as small as the pups she carried.

You need to move.

Groggily, Venur glanced beside her. A crow stared at her, its beady eyes looking past her and into her belly. She winced as she felt a twinge from within. Almost angry, she glared back at the black and white bird.

"I can't. I've run so far, I've tried so hard. It is too late."

The crow paced foreward, jabbing its beak at Venur.

_On the night the horses enter the wood_

_Land and sky shall be overrun_

_Message clear, none misunderstood_

_All creatures of Earth find their time to run_

_The beast will rise_

_With fangs bared wide_

_And scream to the sky_

_As all others fall beneath her stride_

Snarling, Venur struggled to her paws. Taking an unsteady, shaking step foreward, she bared her fangs at the corvid.

"Stop! I won't listen anymore! Find your own Queen, find your own savior! I owe you nothing." She spat the last word, filled with more venom and contempt than she had ever felt in her life.

The bird hopped backwards, cocking its head at the mangled white creature standing before it.

With blood tipped teeth

And red spilled all around

The Beast will settle the word beneath,

And bring peace and warmth back to the ground

With its final word whispered like a secret, the bird took to the sky, shedding a single feather as it disappeared into the once again silent night.

Venur took the feather gingerly in her teeth, a new energy coursing through her veins. Not since she felt her first pup squirm, and had her first vision, had she felt so at peace. Every fear she had, every vision that haunted her dreams, all fell away with this new revelation. The whole forest knew the beginning of the prophecy- every land animal feared the Beast's arrival, and every huntress grew terrified when she learned she would bring life into this icy wasteland they call home. Any little being could be the Beast, the warning passed on to every animal of land and sky. The birds feared the Coming of the Beast. The bees ignored the warning. And every animal stuck in between allowed themselves to be as frozen with fear as the forest.

But no other animal knew about this new end to the prophecy. The Beast was seen as a killer, another war machine in a battle allowed to go on for too long. But now Venur knew the truth. The pup she carried inside of her, the child she had been so afraid to deliver, wasn't destined to go down in history as the one who commited mass genocide, but as a savior, as the only one who can end the longest winter the forest had ever seen.

With a serene sense of purpose lending her a renewed burst of energy, Venur stumbled through the forest, weaving between silent trees toward the den that would give her shelter. Another sharp pain to her stomach caused her to wince, before she realized.

Picking up speed, she thrust her legs through the crusted snow, pushing off the forest floor and swimming as if she was still in the icy stream. Reaching a clearing, she felt it. At first, just a dampening of her hind legs. But as her feet drew her tauntingly close to the mouth of her safe den, the pain began again, this time with a force and vengeance she had never felt before. Gasping, she threw herself into the darkness of the earthen cavern, a stark difference to the pristine white outside. Feeling her body heave, she dragged herself to her warm and safe nest. Pain wracked her body, drawing whimpers and yips out of her panting mouth. Wishing for her mate, she stretched her body out, preparing for the long haul.


	2. Hello, New World

The harsh glow contrasted starkly to the dark, earthen warmth inside the den. The scent of new pups and milk saturated the air, building a scene of pure contentment. Venur lifted her damp, dirt-darkened head, eyes blinking groggily. Shying her head away from the den entrance, she allowed her sleep-blurred vision to adjust to the near blinding light. When the bleariness left her eyes, she blinked up at what had awoken her.

A metallic scent overpowered the more comforting smells that once held authority over the den. A massive, ragged shape filled the den, blocking the entrance. With legs splayed, showing off his bulging muscles, the wolf standing in the tunnel looked like a monster. As he took a step forward, Venur tucked her newborn pups to her side and lifted her shaggy head with bared teeth, a simultaneous show of fear and defiance.

As soon as her lips peeled back from her teeth, recognition flooded her body. Immediately, her snarl dropped, and her tail thumped softly against the soft earth beneath her. Uncurling her body to expose her coveted prizes, she dipped her head in invitation.

"Come. Meet your pups."

But the bleeding red wolf didn't soften his body language. His muscles were still taught, coiled under his pelt like seething serpents. A flame burned deep within his eyes, barely contained. His tail stood at a rigid angle behind him, neither curling nor wagging. Breaths escaped his nose in the form of barely contained pants as he tried to control his anger. Realizing the danger, Venur shrank back from her mate once again.

"Aodh, what happened? What did they do to you? Are you badly hurt?" Venur tried to rise to her paws to inspect her mate, but was stilled by a single, restrained snarl.

"Is it true? What they say? That you have known, all this time? Please, Venur, tell me they are lying. Show me that what they say isn't true…" Aodh begged, half falling onto his knees. Taking a tentative step foreward, he tried to look at the scraps of fur nuzzling their mother's side. When Venur tucked the pups tighter into the coils of her body, rage filled the red wolf again. Snarling, he shoved his muzzle into his mate's cringing face.

"Show me the pups Venur. I am their father. You cannot hide them from me. Besides," he chuckled darkly, tilting his head toward to entrance of the den, "they have already told me everything. I wanted to believe you, Venur, I really did. I did everything for you. I _LOVED_ you! I left my family, my pack, my territory, all to be with you! And you lied to me?" His tone was hurt now, as he took a step back from his prone mate.

Venur blinked at her mate, tears glistening in her eyes.

"I knew you would never listen. I was scared too! I was scared of what I carried inside of me, I was scared of what the pack would do if they found out, I was scared of what _you_ would make me do if you found out! I didn't know what to do!" Venur was sobbing now, replaying in her head these last few moons, the terror she felt, the secret she was hiding.

Aodh lowered his head, looking defeated. The backlighting of the sunlit snow illuminated just how beat up he was. Long gashes raked his sides, the edges crusted over, but the middles still raw and angry. His once-majestic flaming pelt was torn to tatters, hanging off of him in ribbons. His once proud tail drooped, mud-caked and torn, brushing against the earth.

"Please. Just show me the pups. We can't ignore this, Venur. Either you have the Beast, or you don't. Please. Just show them to me."

Venur felt tears soak the fur around her eyes as her heart sank in her chest. She uncurled herself from her children, flinching as Aodh stepped foreward to sniff them.

As the muscular wolf sniffed the first pup, relief rushed into his pelt. The pup was a perfect she-wolf, her downy coat a soft brindling of red and creamy white. Her paws churned as she felt her father's breath, her blind eyes staring up at him defiantly. Amused, Aodh gave her a quick reassuring lick to the top of her head before moving on to the next pup. Again, he let out a breath of relief. The dark gray male pup was sleeping deeply, completely unaware of his surroundings. Aodh felt intense pride as he gazed down on his son. He found it hard to tear his gaze away from his sleeping child, but he moved on to the third pup in the litter. Another daughter, this one black as the night she was born, just a splash of white whisping across her face. Contented, Aodh turned his head to admire his last pup, when his head snapped to a halt.

Scrambling backwards, a snarl building up in his throat, he looked incredulously at his mate.

"How? How can you let it sit there, so close to our pups?"

Venur lept to her paws, standing bristling between her mate and her pups.

"She _is_ our pup!" She snarled, her hackles rising as her blood boiled. She had intended to tell her mate about the prophecy she had received from the crow, but fury had replaced her need for her mate. The fact that he could look into the face of his _daughter_ and have such a volatile reaction…

"Adoh, I think we both can agree that I have made the biggest mistake of my life. But it wasn't having this pup, it was having _yours_." She spat in his face, ignoring the fact that she was half his size.

Adoh recoiled like she had struck him. Her words struck home in the massive male, and his head drooped. Whisking around, his tail dragging behind him, he walked out of the den. Turning over his shoulder, looking at his mate one last time, he plead with her.

"Please, Venur. You don't have to do this. Think of our other three pups. Think of _me_. It isn't too late to choose us. If you just got rid of-"

With a screech of fury, Venur launched herself at her former mate. Slamming her paws into his side, she forced his already battered body out of her den. When he tried to plant his paws in the doorway, she viciously seized his ear in her jaws, tearing him out of her home. She pulled, fury filling her body until it felt like her pelt was on end, charged with energy, until a loud yelp snapped her out of her rage.

Looking down at her paws, she realized she had dragged Adoh out of the den by his ear, tearing a deep 'V' into it. Horrified, she spat her former mate's ear tip out of her mouth. Turning tail away from his battered and defeated body, she threw her last words over her shoulder with a surprising amount of force for the amount she was shaking.

"If I ever see you near my pups again, you will be lucky if its your ear I tear" she spat, before allowing herself to fall into her den, her legs collapsing beneath her. Her back pressed against the warm, dark earth, she panted, listening to Adoh's footsteps fade away into the snow-blanketed forest. Finally breathing again, she turned back to where she left her pups. Every one was accounted for; the brindled female, the powerful gray male, the night-streaked she-wolf. And their sister, sitting straight up, unseeing and unable to hear, and yet she had a look of infinite wisdom on her face. Her white fur tufted above her head like a halo, almost hiding her red-tipped ears. Her clay-colored tail tip flicked over her matching paws, trailing up her snowy legs. Staring at her mother with closed and blind eyes, she tipped her bloodred muzzle as if in gratitude, before flopping back into the pile of her siblings.

Venur's legs trembled in disbelief. She had just lost her mate and risked her entire family for one pup. One pup that the forest simply called the Beast, but to her mother was Maeve, her beautiful and intoxicating one. This pup with her coat as white as the forest, but forever cursed with a bloody face and dirty paws.


	3. The Accident

Stumbling through a particularly deep snow drift, Maeve struggled to keep up with her littermates. Little legs churning, she called ahead.

"Guys! Wait up!"

Pulling herself up with a little wiggle of her haunches, she peeked up at her brother and sisters, stamping their paws as they waited for her. Hopping like a rabbit, she pounced to where her littermates had already beaten a path through the snow with their heavy paws. Panting as she caught up, Maeve skidded across the compacted snow to where her littermates stood. With a slight hint of annoyance, Fagan looked down at her, his muscles twitching beneath his fluffy gray pup-coat.

"Maeve, stop wandering off! It's too cold for you to be away from the pack, and Mother put me in charge!"

Snorting, Luisne cocked her head a bit to the left, raising an eyebrow at her brother.

"Fagan, you're only in charge because you're the oldest." Sneaking a sly look at her sisters, she sat in the snow. "Besides, its only because you're useless at hunting. The only thing you're good at is scoutin-"

Luisne's sentence was cut off as her brother leaped on her, pinning her in the snow. Playfully swiping at her ears, he stood tall and looked down at his sister, cocking his head to the side.

"Only useful for scouting, huh? Interesting, seeing as I'm the strongest wolf here…"

As Fagan allowed himself to be caught up in his own arrogance, Maeve jerked her head at Cleite, indicating for her to flank the two tussling pups. Cleite nodded her light brindled head, her amber eyes flashing with excitement and mischief. The two young she-wolves circled their brother, waiting for him to lift his head again.

As soon as he did, to shake out his fur, the sisters leapt from both sides, as Luisne pushed up from beneath him. As he flew off of his sister, Maeve and Cleite grabbed his shoulders in their paws, pinning him to the frozen ground.

Shaking herself off, Luisne grinned at her brother, her tongue lolling over her teeth.

"You may be the biggest and strongest here, but we have the alliance. Try going up against three wolves at once!"

Triumphantly, the black pup turned her back, lifting her tail in the air. Cleite and Maeve let go of Fagan, nudging him playfully. The gray wolf huffed a little in annoyance, but dutifully took his place behind his younger sister. Maeve trotted behind them, her youngest sister bounding beside her, fluffing out her light-colored coat against the cold. The four pups fell into amiable silence, sniffing the sharp, still air on their search for food. Maeve noted with a small sense of satisfaction that her brother's dense coat was entangled in clumps of snow and ice, where her sleeker fur allowed the snow to slide right off.

As soon as Maeve lost her concentration, Luisne stopped in her tracks, her tail rigid and her mahogany eyes narrowed. As the other three halted, Luisne growled lowly to her siblings.

"I smell a rabbit warren. If we are very quiet and place our paws lightly, and have a bit of luck on our side, we should be able to bring enough meat home for all of us to eat our fill."

When Lusine mentioned eating, Maeve felt her stomach growl. It was about time she ate. The last hunt had only brought a skinny weasel, and that was three sunrises ago. Puffing out her coat against the cold, she crouched low into the snow, feeling the crystals slide across her belly. Setting her paws lightly so as not to break the fragile covering of ice atop the powder, she advanced foreward. Nudging up beside Luisne, she raised her muzzle to the air, catching the warm scent of rabbit drifting in the cold drifts of the morning breeze. Nodding to her sister, Maeve slid foreward, silently advancing on the unsuspecting warren. Feeling her littermates fall into formation behind her, she whisked her tail to the edges of a small patch of freshly disturbed snow. As the other three circled widely to cover the circumference of the warren, Maeve crouched low, feeling her muscles bunch beneath her coat, her body anticipating the hunt. Stilling her excited body, she waited until her littermates had fallen into the same position as she had. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Luisne give an almost imperceptible nod.

And then she lept.

With Luisne at her side, Maeve plunged her forepaws into the soft snow. Scooping with two paws, the sisters cleared the entrance to the warren, sending four young rabbits flying in fear.

As the rabbits fled, Cleite and Fagan pounced, preventing their escape indefinitely. Fagan caught a pair with his powerful paws, snatching another up with a click of his jaw, snapping the rabbit's neck. Cleite gave chase on the fourth, weaving between tall trees and underneath barren bushes. With a great thrust of her hind legs, she pounced on the runaway prey, wrestling it to the ground.

As soon as Cleite raised her head with her catch, two massive adult rabbits exploded from the collapsed warren, rage and fear filling their eyes. Luisne stumbled backward as the male advanced on her, pummeling her with his muscular hind legs. Fagan dropped his catch with a snarl, leaping into the fray. Maeve leaped back from the hole in the frozen earth, her paws skidding on the snow. Cleite ran over, her prey dangling from her mouth.

While Maeve was distracted by the battle between Luisne and the father rabbit, the female leaped on her back, scoring her skin with sharpened claws. Howling in pain, Maeve spun around to face her attacker. The rabbit bared eerily sharp teeth, crouching and reading herself for a renewed attack. Maeve snarled at the predatory herbivore, setting her weight back on her haunches. As the rabbit leapt, so did Maeve. Mid-air, the two locked into battle, clawing and biting the other, yelping and squeaking every time a blow was landed.

Maeve ducked her head and slammed her skull into the rabbit, sending her flying across the clearing. Scrambling for purchase, the rabbit spun to face Maeve again, fire burning deep in her eyes. Snarling with blood-stained teeth, she leapt again, attempting a third attack. Maeve crouched low in the snow, allowing the rabbit to soar over her head. Flipping onto her back, and exposing her dangerously sensitive belly, she thrust up with her back paws, feeling with satisfaction that her claws had imbedded themselves into the rabbit's underbelly. With a final squeal of pain and rage, the rabbit slid across the ice-crusted snow, skidding to a halt under a bare bush.

As soon a Maeve rose to her feet, a sharp crack sounded across the frozen clearing, followed by a howl of anguish. Whipping around, she saw Fagan drop to the ground, his legs crumpling beneath him. With a quick shake of her head, Luisne snapped the neck of the attacking rabbit, then rushed to her fallen brother's side.

The three sisters crowded around Fagan, nudging him and trying to get him up. But his eyes barely twitched at their touch. His jaw hung at an awkward angle, twisted upward toward his muzzle. Blood trickled between his teeth and onto the snow, a pink stain growing around his head. Panicking, Maeve started nudging her brother hard, pushing his limp body around in an attempt to raise him to his paws.

He doesn't stir.

Cleite ran out of the clearing, shouting something over her shoulder about fetching their mother. Luisne took a step to follow her before stopping, torn between protecting the body of her brother and running for help. As the brindled wolf disappears into the silent forest, Luisne settled beside Maeve, pressing her flank against her sister comfortingly. Together they watched the subtle rise and fall of Fagan's pelt, the only way they knew he was still alive.


	4. A Forest of Questions

No one spoke during the long procession home. With their mother gone ahead carrying the burden of their brother's body, the three sisters trudged in silence, pressing their flanks against each other for comfort, boosting each other's shoulders when the weight of their prey was too much. Even with their gravely injured brother occupying the forefront of their minds, their mother had firmly insisted that they waste no prey.

Of course, that burden did not fall to her. She marched ahead, long strides quickly leaving her other three pups to push through the crusted snow alone. Every once in a while, Maeve would stumble, the stinging of her wounds not yet numbed by the snow. Every time she felt too weak, too defeated to go on, her sisters pressed up beside her, urging her forward. Yet no one made a sound.

Maeve's thoughts drifted. If she allowed her mind to wander from her task, the weight of her prey did not seem so heavy upon her shoulders. She thought of the warm weight her muscles felt when she was fed, the scent and earthy feel of the den she shared with her mother and siblings, the way the wind would howl outside, but absolutely nothing could harm her when she was curled up against her mother's belly. She thought of the stories she heard the dying trees whisper, the songs they sung in the creeks of their trunks and scraping of their branches. Sometimes, she would sit at the mouth of her den, eyes closed, feeling the song drift through her bones, deeper than any winter wind could reach. She would push her body against their crescendos, sway with their diminuendos. High choruses tickled the fur lining her face, while low, humming countermelodies echoed deep in her skull. Sometimes she listened to the words, bubbling up from the very ground she sat upon, wondering how her family wasn't kept awake by the songs resonating through the earth-enclosed den; yet other times she simply allowed the music to take her, in the mindless way that only _music_ could.

When she did concentrate on the lyrics, the words escaped her. Syllables clashed and assaulted her ears, barring her from understanding; and yet, she could _feel_ the story, deep in her heart. The story started light, warm, _green_… but died away into dark, sharp death. It pierced her, chilled her skin to an icy temperature she had never felt before, when they spoke of the death of the forest.

As she walked alongside her sisters, the song began again, filling the forest with the low notes signaling the Story of Death. The trees' keening cries filling her head until she drew her shoulders up around her ears, screaming from her mind, _make it stop! Please, just make it stop…_ And they listened. The low mourning of the forest faded away, until… silence. And then, one clear, crisp voice ringing out in the frosty air.

_Little one. You have heard our song, the language of the trees. You have felt all that we have felt, seen all that we have seen, and yet, you understand so little. You shy away from our words, our voices weaving the stories of our ancestors. How may you understand your own destiny, when you are closed off from the world? You know nothing but ice, darkness, and death. You have never seen the bright splash of a flower pushing its way through the crack in a rock, nor hear the soothing bubbling of a gentle summer stream._

As the lone speaker began to weave subtle notes and rhythms into her speech, Maeve felt a strange warmth on her pelt, a sensation she had never felt outside of her den. Glancing at her two sisters in amazement, she saw that neither of them had flinched. Both kept their silent reverie as they padded on, only breaking stride to break through the fickle crust beneath their paws. Neither Cleite nor Luisne had heard the tree's voice ringing out, or the felt idea that the sun could provide something _more_ than cold, distant light. Eyes widening in amazement, Maeve focused back in on the story the tree was telling her.

_There was a time long ago, a time before even your mother, when 'green' was the color of trees. Snow only came in the darkest months, when trees and wolves alike settled down. Food was abundant, and The Kingdom of the Silver Forest went by a different name. The time of Grianbrooke was peaceful, content. There was enough of everything to go around, and everyone took their fair share._

As Maeve walked, she noticed that she had covered quite some ground, and yet the voice continued to speak clearly, even as she moved away from where the story first began. As she pondered this a moment, the realization dawned on her so quickly that she almost dropped her prey in shock. No longer was the forest singing in the many voices that make up a choir; now the forest spoke as one- one voice, one being, one narrative.

_No animal, or tree, ruled over another. Each pack, flock, hive, grove, or family lived by their own rules, and yet lived side by side in comfortable harmony and unity. The huntress, after a long, weary day, wished uncaught prey a safe and peaceful slumber. The hunted, while in the day feared the meat-eaters, wished the same upon them, and slept side by side, not as enemies, but as fellow Livings making their own ways in the world._

The clear voice of the forest grew low and deep, rising to an echoing thunder that resonated in Maeve's ears. It took all she had not to shrink back in her pelt at the terrifying sound.

_Peace feeds acceptance, but it breeds malcontent. No matter the arrangement, someone will always find a reason why they need more, why their neighbor deserves less, why their share will never be enough. _

_The bees looked to the sky and saw not boundless opportunity, but tightening oppression. Fearing their impending doom, the soldiers implored their Queen, in the interest of the bees, to take back the skies. The Queen, being a sensible ruler, denied their requests, time and time again. Once rejected one too many times, the Queen's soldiers deemed her unfit to rule, and threw her out of the hive._

Maeve's ears twitched in shock and bewilderment. She hunted to keep herself alive, to feed her mother and her siblings, but never took more than her fair share. And never had she heard of one of the Livings killing their own family. Dismayed at the thought of such heartless and unneeded suffering, she struggled to keep an attentive ear focused on the trees.

_Quickly, a new Queen was raised to the throne. Queen Bás rose to royalty, crushing any opponent who stood in her way. Her militant mindset aided the royal army, and her orders favored them. Her first act as Queen was to declare war upon the birds. Never before had such a declaration been made. The occasional battling between Families and Clans was typical, but a war with an entire Race? Completely unheard of._

_The birds were shocked. Never before had they been united in such a way. Word of the declaration spread quickly, alerting all Livings, and drawing the birds together. Raven sat alongside chickadee, eagle sat beside robin. Hunter and hunted drawn together by the baffling accusations flung by the bees. The Council of the Birds decided to try to take a peaceful approach to the declaration._

_They shouldn't have underestimated the Queen._

_She armed her hive to the teeth. Advancing upon the Council, they tore through the forest, leaving nothing but death and destruction in their wake. The birds regrouped, forming their own army to combat the onslaught of the Queen._

_And now we are here. The forest froze over from the sheer force of the war. The sun was afraid to set her warmth upon the earth, plunging us into an eternal winter. The only way out is through you, little pup. _

The booming voice of an entire forest turned to one narrator died back down to one speaker, the impatient and flustered rustling of the other's filling in as background noise.

_The forest and all of the trees must remain impartial. But we can guide you on your journey. _

Maeve's eyes widened as she looked around, trying to pinpoint which towering oak was speaking to her.

"How can you help me? How can I help you? I can't save the whole forest, I'm just one wolf! I have to care for my mother… how can I care for you too?" The thoughts raced in her head, projecting with such an energy that Maeve had never felt in her own mind before.

The trees rustled again, branches twisting and scraping together in soothing rhythm, their way of comforting.

_We cannot tell you which way your path must lead, or who you must be. You must learn your true self in order to save the forest._

Maeve looked incredulously upward, earning her a sharp, curious glance from Luisne. Forcing her feet onward and her muzzle straight ahead, she focused her mind on the trees beside her, hoping her thoughts would reach her speaker.

_We may however, relay to you the prophecy…_

"Prophecy?!"

_Hush child. We are running out of time. Listen, and you will know._

_On the night that the horses-_

"Everybody stop moving!"


End file.
